Rounding the Bases

Text:

© Grathy


Once I lived
In the Big League,
Pitcher on the mound,
With my wide windup
I'd hurl it toward the plate
Striking out at everything.

Me with my brash bravado,
Chewing on wads
Of fake promise and victory.

Then, another season…
The bases got slippery
And I fell.

At first,
I thought they were just
Too high,
Too far,

But then I knew
It was me
Tripping over
What I used to be,
Riding on past glories
That got in my way.

I couldn't see the field
With all its lumps
And angles,

So when I slid into second
My shins splint
As a younger baseman
Took me out.

Into the dugout
I nursed my wounds
And wondered
Why the bases
Seemed so far apart,

And the ball, so smooth
Like a comet
It would whizz by
Faster than a blink
It was gone,

Buried with the catcher
And an ump
Who called me out.

In the bleachers now,
I watch the mound
And cocky players
Chew on the problems
Of the game,

The back and forth
Of their nods and whispers
Tells me to enjoy
The mounds I've owned,
The benches I now warm.